


In Order For A Victory, Someone Else Must Lose

by insertfruitpun



Category: The Witchlands Series - Susan Dennard
Genre: Bittersweet, Gen, is now, is that a tag?, its more of an homage to the fucked up family, kullen and safi are mentioned too but very little, the nihar family, the rest of the nihar family is mentioned a lot but they dont make an appearance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:41:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28781412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insertfruitpun/pseuds/insertfruitpun
Summary: Merik thinks about what he thought was true and what proved to be in the end. Short and not too serious.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 5





	In Order For A Victory, Someone Else Must Lose

**Author's Note:**

> My dudes. My guys. I wrote this directly onto ao3 because I was challenging God, apparently. And it didn't post. It said posting canceled and I lost the original fic. This is a rewrite. It's not as good as the original I think, but I still like it. Hope you will too.

Merik wasn't sure of anything anymore. 

All the things he viewed as facts less than a month ago were either not true or were badly exaggerated. 

The small ones, he could deal with. He could accept that Safi wasn't the annoying, ignorant Cartorran he first thought she was. He could accept that he was in the wrong when Cam told him that he was.

What Merik couldn't handle was being useless.

When he was little, he liked to imagine himself in the stories that were read to him. He'd get the glory and fame, all while making sure his country was doing well.

But Merik knew now that he was never going to be the King or the sole saviour of Nubrevna. And that, if he did do something, he wouldn't be in charge. Wouldn't get the praise. That was someone else's story.

It was Vivia's story. 

Merik thought he hated his sister. He truly did. And he thought she hated him too. But when it came down to it, they helped each other. 

And the feeling was great. For the little time they worked together, as a team, they seemed to fit well together. Even it Vivia was a much more powerful witch.

Merik doubted he was ever going to get over that. Because, as he learned, parents don't usually send their kids away and then never visit.

At first, Merik really thought that Serafin would come see him. So he befriended Kullen, first because he was powerful enough for the both of them, and then later because he was the one person that Meruk could truly talk to. He thought his father would be proud at his choices, but Serafin never got to learn about them. He didn't care to.

Merik made excuses for his father at first, most involving his sickness. Aunt Evrane wasn't having any of it, though. Over the years they spent together, she never liked discussing her brother. Merik caught her muttering insults to herself at times, but if he ever called her out on it, she denied. 

Now, after everything, Merik could hear pure loathing in her voice whenever she did talk about him. That was one more thing he was wrong about.

Evrane really did hate her brother. And for so long, Merik thought that she didn't, that she couldn't actually hate her own brother. In the rare instance that she would humour his need for a conversation about it, she'd just bring up Vivia.

And, yes, he did equate their strained relationship with the one Aunt Evrane and his father had, but she didn't need to know that. 

His reasoning had always been "That's different. We didn't grow up together."

Aunt Evrane would then roll her eyes or sigh, and Merik wouldn't be allowed to mention either his sister or father for the next few days. It was for the best. She'd just get mad and not answer him, anyway. 

As much as Merik admired her, she had her flaws. And while ignoring what Nubrevna needed wasn't a flaw, not when she had no way of changing it from exile, it was one of the reasons Merik didn't idolise her.

He thought he was lucky, to get to live with her, and meet Kullen and do all the things that Vivia could never do, surrounded by nobility and constant expectations.

But as years went by, he envied it, at least a little bit. Because he was never even invited to the events, even as he grew. And when Merik had enough of it, of just hearing rumours about what that rich lady said to the merchant's son after the party, he decided that staying away from all of that wasn't his story either. Simply because characters in stories were supposed to be happy with their choices, and as much as Merik loved growing up with his Aunt, it started feeling more like a cage than a home soon enough.

It could be her story for all he cared, though he still hoped he was at least a side character in it.

It took Merik a while to realise why Aunt Evrane was suddenly interested in life in Lovats when her letters became frequent. Now he saw that most of her questions were about Serafin, and what he said and did to Merik. 

Maybe that was where the loathing came from. Or maybe that came from talking to Vivia, which was another thing entirely. 

Merik didn't have a longer conversation with her just yet, in fears that he'd maybe agree with his Aunt. And he realised long ago that he would eventually, it scared him, in a way that was oddly freeing.

But for now, he didn't want to think about it or talk about it. And if the loathing showed up in his voice, too, then let it be years later, when he's ready to completely deny all the usual "families love each other."

As Aunt Evrane always put it, Serafin wasn't her family. Merik used to care about his father's opinion. A lot. And he couldn't talk about him in the unmerciful, cold way Aunt Evrane did. He couldn't even approach the subject carelessly, as if he didn't even have an opinion. Even Vivia, who he found was usually good at masking her feelings, couldn't do it without it seeming absolutely fake.

Merik never understood people's needs to hide what they were feeling or thinking. His father supported Merik every time he snapped for letting his anger out. For scaring as much people as he could. Because, in his father's mind, that was what you needed to do. Not gain the respect of people. No, you needed to scare them.

Merik wondered how he was ever pleased at the praise from his father. He supposed it didn't matter to him anymore, and that it was now easy to look at it objectively. As if it was just one chapter in his story. But his story wasn't one of anger, either. 

It took a while for Merik to realise that maybe his life wasn't one at all. Because children's stories weren't about loss or pain or death. They rarely ever touched the subject of broken families and tainted memories. 

So maybe Merik's life was never going to be a story. But that didn't mean he couldn't have a happy ending. 

He wouldn't be celebrated in the future for his accomplishments towards Nubrevna. He would never be the ruler they needed. But that didn't mean he couldn't help.

He just needed to find his way. And he would, sooner or later.

**Author's Note:**

> Is this just an excuse to use the title? Yes. Am I still proud of it? Also yes.


End file.
